Harrington: A Story of True Love

As hot a day as ever blazed on the lowlands of Louisiana, blazed once in mid-April on the plantation of Mr. Torwood Lafitte, parish of Avoyelles, in the Red River region. Perhap...

The solemn time slowly wore away. Gradually the twilight began to glimmer through the slats of the western window. Wentworth rose noiselessly, opened the window, put back the bl...

Monsieur Bagasse, meanwhile, resuming his equanimity, stood sighting beyond the muzzle of an invisible cannon, as if the door was the mark, looking very much like some slovenly,...

The next day the announcement of the marriage appeared in the newspapers, and falling soft as a rose-leaf on the tail of that great Chicken Little, Society, Society ran round cl...

The family of the Mr. Lemuel Atkins, of whom the Captain had spoken, belonged to what is called Good Society; but let no one suppose that they constituted a specimen of the Bost...

It was about one o’clock when they arrived. After a hasty dinner, Muriel withdrew to argue matters with her mother, while Harrington went into the library, and Wentworth, who wa...

Harrington lifted his calm eyebrows with some wonder at the furious entrance of his friend, and sat regarding him with a firm mouth and steadfast eyes. Wentworth, out of breath...

Day, ethereal and splendid, burst up the wide horizon like a hymn, and filled the sacred morning with light and love and joy. A morning ruled by a celestial sun—a morning blue a...

A low and melancholy melody was dreaming from the organ through the corridors, as Harrington entered the still and darkened dwelling. He was about to ascend to the library, when...

She had not gone half a dozen paces, before some one came striding to her side. It was Harrington, and she instantly put her arm in his, with a gesture so sudden and joyous, tha...

For a few minutes they all sat in silence, all but Harrington flushed and throbbing with the excitement of the adventure, and joyous with their success. The storm had broken wit...

After the incidents of the evening, it was not a little discomposing to behold, as they did, upon entering the parlor, Mrs. Atkins, Miss Atkins and Julia, together with Fernando...

A low, guttural mutter of distant thunder shuddered through the air as Harrington rushed into the night, and turning at the head of the street, he saw the knotted snakes of the...

As Mr. Parker only preached in the forenoon, they did not go to church again, but after dinner sat together all the afternoon in the library, reading aloud, and talking, and sup...

Gradually a desire to be out in the spiritual solitude of the night came upon him. He rose from his seat, closed the window, took his hat from the wall, and setting the night-la...

The next day arose in the dazzling effulgence of a fervid sun. It was the thirty-first of May—the last day of spring—but the light and heat of June filled the streets of the cro...

Captain Bangham, with a mortal aversion to Lafitte, hovered about the outside of the glass door, and left the office several times, before the talk on business was concluded. In...

If, on or about the twenty-fifth of May, 1852, a fugitive from Southern tyranny were to arrive in Boston, he would probably very soon discover two things—first, that he must see...

As an iceberg sinks dissolved into the waters of the Southern ocean, so sank the cold, blue night into the golden crystal of a warm, delicious day. Again beneath the hiving roof...

Recalled to herself by the shutting of the street door, Muriel started from her trance, and flew upstairs into her chamber. Falling on her knees by her bedside, she covered her...

Transformed again in lace and lilac from a fairy prince to a fairy princess, Muriel joined her friends in the library. Music and blithe talk filled up the hours till tea-time, a...

Where was Mr. Lafitte all this time? Had he returned to the sunny South, and to that particular part of its sunniness in which sweltered his negroes at their miserable toil?

“I’m afeard, Miss Eastman, that his life’s not worth saving,” returned the negro, in an exhausted voice, wiping away, with his shirt-sleeve, as he spoke, the streaming moisture...

They arrived in a few minutes at the house in Temple street, and were let in by Patrick. Wentworth had been complaining that something was hurting his foot, and sat down in the...

“Here we are again!” cried Wentworth, in his hearty voice, flinging his hat on the table, and running his hand through his clustering curls. “Here we are, in the height of felic...

In Temple street lived Muriel with her mother. Mrs. Eastman was a widow. Her husband, a young scholar, primarily a lawyer, had died three years after their marriage, when Muriel...

Emily covered her face with her hands, and for more than fifteen minutes sat in silent stupor where Muriel had left her. At length she sprang up, throwing her clenched hands fro...

The carriage immediately set off as directed, and Harrington, leaning forward, took Emily’s gloved hands in his, and looked fervently into her beautiful face. Emily did not turn...

He was leaning back in his chair, enjoying the consciousness of eighty dollars earned, when the door opened, and in came the Captain, with his head very much on one side, and an...

Muriel, in the meantime, had returned from her walk, and had a tender and happy hour with Emily. Emily was glorious that morning in her beauty, for the Valley of Humiliation had...

Among other things in Boston at that period there was a fencing school and pistol gallery, kept by an old soldier of the First Empire, Monsieur Hypolite Bagasse. The way to it w...

Harrington lived in Chambers street, not far from where he had left the carriage, and strode on over the pavement of Cambridge street to his house, drawing in deep breaths of th...

That evening, visitor after visitor called, and the parlor was full of talk and music and laughter. Amidst her company, Muriel felt a lonely longing for the face of Harrington....

The gibbous moon hung midway down the zenith over the vast and sleeping city, a lob of spectral light in the cold, blue heavens, over a fantastic brood of dreams. Daniel Webster...

Witherlee had not left the house in Temple street but a little while, when a couple of ladies, intimate with the family, who had seen the news of the marriage in the morning pap...

In a few minutes the two young ladies, cloaked and bonneted, came out into the sunlit street, where stood the carriage, which Patrick, the inside man, had brought up from Niles’...

The Sabbath dawned calm and peaceful and beautiful, and filled with Sabbatic stillness. Such a Sabbath as would have waked the holy muse of Donne or Herbert, of Keble or Heber,...